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jujumin-translates · 3 days ago

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★ A3! 8th Anniversary | MANKAI Company’s Second Special Performance - “The Blessing of Le Cadeau”

They were given two endings—eternity or momentary pain.

Summary

In the great sea lays a small island, protected by four great countries and a sacred island. Because many writers have lived there since ancient times and countless works have been produced there, the island has come to be known as "the island where stories are born." It is there that stories are created constantly.

In order to preserve and pass on the stories, an academy was founded to train librarians—Le Cadeau Academy.

This year, twelve new students will arrive at this traditional and prestigious academy. With one unfinished book given to them as proof of admission and their own aspirations, they take the first step toward becoming librarians.

However, there is a "secret" hidden within the school. A secret that gives them choices and determines the ending of the story. Now, is the ending it spells out a happy one? Or...

Cast

Aubrey played by Sakuma Sakuya / Tenma Sumeragi

"Come on, let's go! To stories yet to be seen—."

The youngest. His origin is that his grandmother read picture books to him when he was a child. He's honest, charming, and people around him always want to take care of him in any way they can.

Kieran played by Tsumugi Tsukioka / Banri Settsu

"I plan to be a great hero by the time I graduate from here!"

A childhood friend of Jared. He's a young man brimming with curiosity. He's fascinated by the kinds of heroes you see in stories. He's come to confirm the rumor that "librarians never age."

Kenneth played by Tsuzuru Minagi / Kazunari Miyoshi

"I can't believe I've been spotted by royalty of all people. Haha, my school life is over, huh?"

The class president. He had the misfortune of being nominated as class president, even though he had planned to graduate unnoticed. He's diligent to his core and tries his best to do the work that is asked of him properly.

Amalia played by Yuki Rurikawa / Azuma Yukishiro

"There's a book I'm looking for. Ever since before I even stepped foot in this place. All I remember is it's binding."

A woman with a thoughtful personality who always takes a step back and surveys her surroundings. She'll never forget a book she once came across in a small bookstore that she went to when she was little. She was going to save up to buy it, but the book becomes no longer available when the bookstore closes. She's been looking for that book ever since.

Leroy played by Muku Sakisaka / Citron

"I started writing stories... because I wanted a chance to get to know my older brother."

Gordon's gentle younger brother who's a friend to everyone. He feels more than a little indebted to his older brother, and as a result, he has the personality of someone who is more concerned about his surroundings. He is often attentive and keeps his balance in the moment. He began writing stories in the hope that they would help him restore his relationship with his brother, but he has yet to show him any of his works.

Gordon played by Kumon Hyodo / Omi Fushimi

"...Do you enjoy sharing with others? It's so strange, I've never had a conversation like this with someone before."

Leroy's older brother. Once Leroy was born, their parents stopped caring about him, and he used books to fill his loneliness. Because of that, he's somewhat introverted and not very talkative. At best, he's a hassle-free boy. He's puzzled inside, not understanding why his younger brother, who has so many friends, came to the academy with him. (He isn't aware of it, but he's worried that Leroy will take the story away from him, just as he took their parents away from him.)

Joachim played by Juza Hyodo / Sakyo Furuichi

"I've memorized all of your faces. Prepare yourselves for the year ahead."

Royalty. The third prince of the Kingdom of Le Cadeau, which oversees the academy. He enrolls to fulfill his royal duties in other ways, as he will not inherit the throne due to where he stands in the hierarchy. He was hit somewhat hard by Kenneth, who thought that since Joachim had the highest status among the students at the academy, he'd naturally be the one chosen as the class president.

Henrick played by Taichi Nanao / Guy

"All people need is a single story."

There is just one story he'll never forget. He has an aspiration to have as many people as possible encounter books such as he did. He's somewhat narrow-minded and self-righteous. He hopes to encounter only one book in his lifetime that will change his life. He and Meredith tend to clash with one another due to their different values.

Meredith played by Masumi Usui / Chikage Utsuki

"I just love each and every story that's been born into this world."

He loves all stories. The same holds true for how he feels about people. For that reason, Henrick thinks of him as being shallow, and they clash about everything.

Jared played by Azami Izumida / Homare Arisugawa

"It's too ominous to have a black cat pass right in front of you just as you're about to enter school... This must be a warning. This better not unravel some kind of mystery..."

A childhood friend of Kieran's. A gloomy young man. He enrolls after Kieran gets involved. Because he's afraid of librarians not aging, he doesn't want to get involved with them. He tends to think negatively.

Vance played by Tasuku Takato / Misumi Ikaruga

"You wanted to see me? Sure thing. This is gonna be a fun school year."

The student council vice president. He loves mischief and loves having fun. Thinks being vice president sounds fun, so he agrees to do it without any real consideration. He saw a librarian using magic when he was a kid and thought that life would be more fun if he could learn to do it, so he enrolled at the academy.

Abel played by Hisoka Mikage / Itaru Chigasaki

"I don't like being left behind."

He enrolled for one purpose. He gets good grades and is sociable. He behaves as a problem-free student and is trusted by both students and teachers.

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zepskies · 2 days ago

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Omg thank you so much, Liane!!! 🥹💓💓 Pls, you never have to apologize for sharing your thoughts on my writing -- however short or however long. I love it all!!

Still can't say much about Beau, since I still haven't gotten around to watching Big Sky yet (I definitely plan to, especially after your recommendation -- I just don't have Disney+ currently 🥹), except that his was the sexiest imo😮‍💨 Their dynamic is the most sensual.

Oh Beau comes in on the last episode of season 2. I've seen that through season 3, and Sheriff Beau Arlen is an absolute delight. 🥰 But omg I find it so interesting that you actually liked his part the most. I definitely had fun with his part -- and that line in particular. 😏❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Now, for Dean, you always capture his character so perfectly, Alex. ❤️❤️ You hit the nail on the head again! Especially with how he articulates via facial expressions. Those eyebrow wiggles are 100% Dean. I can picture his stupid, pretty grin so vividly and it fits so well here. He's so silly and playful with the reader, it's so cute!!! Feels so domestic and comfy.

That compliment means so much to me, thank you! 🥹🥹 To me, when Dean's comfortable and happy, he's all jokey and grinning and eyebrow waggly loll. That "stupid, pretty grin" right? 😂

Even in non-spicy scenarios, I know for a fact he'd love to rest his head on her thighs, her tummy, her chest, her butt -- she's his favorite pillow fr.

Omg yessss I absolutely love this!! I need to incorporate that thought in the Midnight Espresso-verse for sure. 💗

Also, side note, but a favorite headcanon of mine is Dean having gained a little bit of weight in the later seasons himself. He's not in his early to mid twenties anymore, bodies change, his love for greasy food doesn't. And he absolutely deserves the joy of that pizza followed by three slices of pie (as well as having a partner that matches his appetite, someone after his own heart). Dean with a soft tummy owns my heart and soul.

Oooh you know what, this is so realistic and I've seen writers incorporate this into their AU post-season 15 "fix it" stories especially. I totally agree with that now that you put that idea in my head. 💞

And Ben... Of course he jumps to the wrong conclusion at first. Like, yes, he's obviously self centered, but also: I love that somehow it didn't even occur to him that maybe she's feeling uncomfortable/insecure. As if, well, she's hot to him, so she's hot, end of the story -- that sounds about right. 😭😂 You nailed it, again.

Ahaha YEP, that's pretty much it. And if she doesn't think so? Well, he's got ways of showing her otherwise. 😏

Btw, before I read Ben's part, I literally thought "well, more for him to grab and manhandle, he's gotta put that superhero strength to use somehow" haha! Pretty sure we can all agree that he thinks modern beauty standards are ridiculous.

LOLL that's exactly where my thought process was too! Women of the 40s-50s were actually allowed to have a fuller figure. 💞

Fantastic job on all three of these. Such a nice request and a great exploration of this topic. <3

Thank you again so much. 😭😭 This is why I hang on to requests like this that I know have the power to potentially touch other people the way it struck me. 💗💗

Headcanon: Body Insecurity/Appreciation

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Beau Arlen x Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

AN: This one was requested by one of my lovely Patreon members, @roseblue373. 💜 It's a special one to me personally, being plus-sized myself and having gone through my share of insecurities. Wish I had one of these guys to make it better lol!~

Prompt/Request: Great job with the latest Dean/Beau/Ben reacts vignettes! I'd love to see one where reader has put on weight and isn't happy with their body, and how each would make her feel better!! IF the muse agrees, of course! ❤️

HC: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to your body insecurity.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Established relationship, body insecurity (but also body appreciation), thicc thirty, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, spiciness/smuttishness.

Dean Winchester

You've started breezing past mirrors when you get out of the shower.

Because if you catch sight of your own reflection, you can't help but utter a sigh, your lips dipping into a frown.

In the privacy of the room you share with Dean in the bunker, you take a risk in unwrapping the towel from your body in front of the mirror.

You inspect yourself with growing dejection, noting all the places that are rounder, heavier, less firm than they used to be.

Looks like no amount of running down leads and killing monsters has been enough to keep you in shape.

Too much shitty fast food, too many times you indulged yourself with snacks and dessert alongside your foodie boyfriend.

"What'cha doin', sweetheart?" Dean asks. He steps into the room while wiping donut icing from the corner of his mouth.

Speak of the devil.

When Dean finally catches you frowning at yourself in the mirror, you inhale sharply and close the towel back up.

"Nothing. Just need to get dressed," you reply quickly. "Shower's open."

You try to offer him a smile, despite the pang of jealousy when you eye him.

He gave you the first chance at the shower after the latest case wrapped up, so he's still wearing most of his FBI suit, sans jacket. The white dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows, a few days of scruff neatly trimmed across his cheeks.

The man can cram an entire pizza down his gullet and wash it down with three slices of apple pie, not to mention countless beers. And still, Dean stays looking downright edible.

By comparison, you feel...fat. Like you've let yourself go.

You turn away from him to grab your well-worn sweatpants and an oversized shirt; you plan to change alone in the bathroom, but Dean grabs your arm.

"Who says you need to get dressed?" he says, popping his brows with a suggestive grin. He slips his arms around your waist, but your instinct is to shy away from his hold. You chuckle awkwardly and avoid his now curious gaze.

"Sorry, babe. Um...I'm wiped. I just want to get to bed," you say.

But Dean isn't fooled. His spidey sense is tingling, and his gut is almost never wrong.

His hand slides down your arm and grasps your hand, tugging you back into his arms. You utter a little gasp, but you ultimately smile at his familiar grin. There's a perceptive gleam in his eyes though.

"You know, seems like you've been pretty wiped lately," he says, raising a brow. "It's been a while since we, uh..."

He waggles his brows playfully, squeezing your hips. You want to smile, but you can't let yourself. You can't quite look at him either.

For Dean, it's another glaring red flag. His lips form a frown, and he dips his chin to find your eyes.

"Hey," he says. "What's goin' on? Talk to me."

His tone is so sincere, you have to blink against the sting of tears. Your lower lip wobbles, and Dean frowns in earnest. He presses a hand to your cheek and gets you to look at him with your watery eyes.

"Sweetheart, you gotta tell me what's wrong," he says, more gently, but serious.

Eventually, you're able to get it out. You can't bear the thought of him touching you, because lately, you can't even bear looking at yourself.

"I know I've been gaining weight, I just..." your voice breaks, and you gesture haphazardly at your body. "I'd get it if you're not really into this right now."

Dean's heart clenches. He's downright shocked at your confession, and more than a little disheartened. He presses a hand to your cheek and guides you to look at him.

"All right, hold up just one damn minute."

His calloused fingers gently brush away your tears, but his hands keep moving, slowly traveling down your body. They slide down your bare arms, skimming the sides of your breasts.

Your breath hitches. Your hand is still fisted over your beating heart, keeping your towel closed. His hands continue to move, molding to the curve of your waist over the fuzzy fabric.

"I'll admit, we've been pretty busy lately with everything we've got going on. But if you think that means I'm ever not into this delectable, sexy, voluptuous, goddess body you got rockin' the house?" he says, grinning that utterly Dean grin of his.

You bite your lip against a bubble of laughter. He's too fucking much sometimes.

Dean tugs you closer, until your hips fit snugly against his through his slacks. His tall, broad frame crowds you. His lips skim your cheek, then over your lips in a tease.

He squeezes the flesh of your hips, tender and sensuous.

Your heart flutters at the feeling.

"Mmm, I like you nice and soft," he murmurs against your cheek, close to your ear. "Feels that much better when I fuck you."

A small gasp gets trapped in your throat, while the gravel depths in his voice go straight to your pussy in a pulsing throb of warmth.

By the time he claims your lips in a devouring kiss, you're all too willing to let him peel your towel open, drop it to the floor, and guide you backwards onto the bed.

There he'll take his time, forging yet another mental map of every plush square inch of you.

Beau Arlen

Beau is a busy man. You understand that.

As Sheriff, his job demands a lot from him. He's also a father and has an ex-wife to contend with. (You knew that going in, and you've come to love Emily too.)

However, you can't help but start to take it personally when your sex life begins to suffer. He's often claimed being tired...but there's another suspicion that's been taking root in your mind, feeding your doubts and insecurities about how your boyfriend sees you, and about how you see yourself.

When you slip into bed at night, a kiss goodnight is all he gives you lately, before he's sighing deeply and closing his eyes, his soft snores soon filling the room.

One night, you try touching his shoulder, leaning in to kiss his bearded cheek. He hums at the pleasant feeling.

"You wanna...?" You trail the question in his ear, pressing more sweet kisses down his neck.

"Aw, sweetheart," he groans. "I'd like to, but I think I'd just smother you. I'm about to pass out."

You huff a laugh. You teasingly walk two fingers across his chest. "What if I make it easy for you?"

You shift onto your side. Resting a hand on his chest, you lean down to kiss him. He hums at the softness of it, but the more passion you try to imbue into each new kiss, Beau isn't as responsive as you would like. Eventually, you stop all together.

You frown, becoming disheartened. "You're not into this, I guess."

He opens his tired eyes, gazes up at you in apology. He opens his mouth to reply, but you beat him to it.

"You know it's been a month since we've had sex," you say.

Beau frowns, sliding a hand up your back. Only now does he notice, with appreciation, the familiar silky négligée you're wearing.

"Nah, that doesn't sound right," he says.

"Well, it is," you say. "I know you say you're tired, but I mean, you've had this job for as long as I've known you, Beau." Your eyes fall away from him. "So is the job, or...is it me?"

Beau's brows furrow. "Now wait a minute."

The mere thought dredges up what's been plaguing your mind recently, and it has your throat tightening. Tears of embarrassment and upset well up in your eyes, no matter how much you try to push it down.

You push away from him and turn away, crossing your arms. You try not to look at yourself in what used to be your favorite lingerie.

You can't stand the extra weight you've put on, mostly in your hips and ass, but in your middle and arms too.

You've gone through your own stress at work this year, with less and less time to try and take care of yourself, along with making sure Emily gets to and from school, cooking for the three of you, going to PTA meetings when Carla can't make it (since Beau often can't), and every other proverbial hat you wear.

Beau follows you, sitting up and laying a hand on your back. "Sweetheart--"

"I know I've put on a few. Hell, more than a few," you admit, hastily wiping under your eyes. "God, I can't even look at myself right now, let alone have you--"

"Hey. You stop right there," Beau says, more firmly. He gets you to turn around with his hand on your shoulder. He doesn't like the way you're curled in on yourself, as if hiding your body from his gaze.

That, and the sight of your tears damn well break his heart.

He cups the side of your face gently and presses a tender kiss to your forehead, followed closely by your lips.

You don't want to melt, but you just can't help it. You cling to the front of his shirt and lean into his kiss, like you've been lost in the desert, and his lips hold the breath of life.

You almost don't realize it when his arms slip around your waist. He earns a surprised yelp from you when he gathers you close against his chest and rolls you underneath him.

You land against the pillows in a huff. You stare up at his playful smile, his green eyes glinting with amusement, with fondness, and also with desire as they roam over your breasts, barely contained by dark green satin and lace.

"I've been neglecting you, haven't I?" he says. His voice is a low, earthy drawl as his gaze rakes over you. His big hand runs down your side and over your hip, then down your bare thigh, squeezing soft, tender flesh. He slips that hand under the satin night gown.

His hand can't span your entire thigh, but it's not for lack of trying. Your heart beats a staccato rhythm at the way he looks at you, your breath hitching when his thumb dips between your legs, brushing against the damp, silky fabric of your panties.

"It's not because I don't find you sexy as hell. Believe me, darlin', I do," he says. "You're so fuckin' beautiful, especially when you're all laid out for me here."

And he means what he says. You know it by the hardness you feel pressing against your hip. You slip your fingers into his hair with a sigh.

He bows his head to press kisses along your neck; down and down, he noses at the thin strap of your night gown. His path of kisses continue, and he indulges himself by dipping his tongue between the valley of your breasts.

"Filling out this lacy little thing so nice," he murmurs into your skin.

Your upset has turned to abject relief, but you still have to blink away the remaining urge to cry.

You let out a slightly tremulous breath.

"Oh, yeah?" you ask.

Beau pauses. He pulls away, just so he can look up and meet your eyes. He still finds insecurity in yours, so he meets you with a kiss filled with heat and intent.

He's now wide awake. He plans to take his sweet time taking you apart, inch by inch.

In fact, in the back of his mind, he also plans to do better about letting his deputies help him out more at the precint so he can have a better work-life balance.

(Because going a whole damn month without the taste of you is "no bueno," in his words.)

Soldier Boy (Ben)

The man may not be very patient, or particularly perceptive, but he's not an idiot.

At least, not about sex.

He knows that you've been feigning tiredness, and generally avoiding his touch.

What's strange is that you haven't been avoiding him. You still cook for him, still share conversation with him, still insist on having him spoon you on the couch while catching him up on the past four decades of TV shows and movies.

But when he begins to sneak a hand under your oversized shirt (an old one of Ben's), caressing your hip, then dipping down to your softer stomach on the way to your panties, breaking your concentration from the movie as unease laces down your spine.

You grab his wrist on reflex, instead lacing your fingers together.

"What's the matter now?" he asks.

You look over your shoulder at him and find him frowning at you, a divot between his brows. You don't manage to hold his gaze for long.

"Sorry," you say quietly. "I'm just, um, tired."

Ben doesn't believe you, and he's direct when he calls you out on it.

Reluctant to put what you've been feeling into words, you pause the movie and leave the couch (and him) behind.

Ben is annoyed enough to follow you (and underneath, he hides an edge of concern). The conflict leads into the bedroom, where you're still unwilling to open up.

He finally stops you from walking away from him, pinning you against the dresser by your hips. He practically looms over you as he demands an answer. He knows you're hiding something — something that's had you reluctant to let him touch you.

"Is there something you wanna tell me?" he says, a raw edge of warning in his tone. "What, are you fucking somebody else?"

Shock flashes in your eyes, making you angry. "What? No!"

"Well, you seem to be getting your fill somewhere, and it hasn't been from me--"

"Are you fucking serious? I'm not..." Your lips purse. You're actually hurt that he would hurl that accusation your way--and it couldn't be farther from the truth.

You tug your long shirt downwards and cross your arms, but it's more like you're hugging yourself, shielding your body away.

Ben's brows furrow a little bit more.

Eventually you get it out; you haven't been feeling up to being intimate because you're having a hard time even looking at yourself lately.

"I know I need to, um, get back in shape," you say, taking in a shaky breath to try and steady yourself. Your throat constricts, the beginnings of tears stinging your eyes. You want to look at anywhere but at Ben. "I just haven't had much time, with everything going on. But Annie gave me this guide on some different diets, like intermittent fasting, Keto--"

"Fasting," Ben intones. "What, you wanna fucking starve yourself? What the fuck is Keto?"

You sigh, barely resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"No, not starve myself. And Keto's just..." The idea of trying to explain the new diet craze to your boyfriend is too daunting a task to consider. "Never mind. The point is, I have a plan. My hips, my thighs, my ass--"

Ben squeezes your hips at the mention of them. He happens to like the softness.

"Yeah, you've got a little extra. So fucking what?" he says, his voice deep and exacting as his gaze roams over your body. "Just gives me more to hold onto when I'm fucking you."

You utter a shocked laugh. "Ben!"

He grins lazily, and he turns you this way and that, admiring you from all angles. In his eyes, he doesn't find a side he doesn't like. You can't help but blush hotly under his gaze.

"Sweetheart, do whatever you want if it makes you feel good. But you don't need to starve yourself." His hands move to your ass, squeezing a bit harder on the plush flesh.

A yelp escapes you; he's pressing into you from the front as well, and you feel him heavy and already half-hard against you. You grab onto his arms for stability as your breaths quicken.

His attitude kind of surprises you, even though it soothes the frayed, insecure part of your soul that wants to be as beautiful and attractive in his eyes as he is in yours.

Ben is literally a super soldier. You're actually kind of jealous. The man can drug and booze hard and eat whatever the hell he wants, but his super metabolism just seems to absorb it into his washboard abs.

(The more you think about it, the more you want to smack him.)

Nothing about him isn't hard and lean, muscle and strength.

Only his hands have a measure of gentleless when they're holding you like this.

"I've just got so many stretch marks now," you begin to complain, in an emotional whisper.

He snorts. "And? You think it's anything I haven't seen? I'm not afraid of a little cellulite either."

At that, your head tilts in consideration. Butcher's Granny Fucker remark comes to mind. You bite your lip against a smirk.

Ben crooks a curled finger under your chin. He guides you to meet his eyes, before he lures you into a lusty kiss.

It's somewhat rough because of his beard, but you still smile afterwards, leaning against him now.

"Ain't nothing about you that I can't handle," he adds, all smirking and cocky. To prove his point, he hooks those strong hands behind your thighs and lifts you onto the dresser.

You gasp and cling to his shoulders. From there, he makes quick work of ridding the oversized shirt from your body, revealing you to the cool air and his hot gaze.

You take his face in your hands and bring him in for an even steamier kiss, your heart lighter and trembling with anticipation.

You've held yourself from him long enough, Ben thinks, and he has every intention of devouring you right on your old dresser -- before you two even get to the bed.

AN: 😮‍💨 I feel like each of these could've been even longer with their own one-shot loll. I wrote the Midnight Espresso-verse for Dean, partially to explore what his relationship would be like with a plus-sized reader. 💖💖

Let me know which one you liked most this time!

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#lovely review!! 😍#reader appreciation #lovely mutuals #headcanon: body insecurity and appreciation

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heliosunny · 13 hours ago

Note

Hi, I don't know if this is wrong but I would like to ask for a yandere sashisu x reader request, the plot doesn't matter, it's just that there is Little sashisu content 🥺

If this petition bothers you, you can delete it 🥹

Wish granted ✨ I love Sashisu so this is really long ahahaha- haha- yeah😔 by the time i finished this, it'll be about 1:00 AM.

THE CAGE OF LOVE

1st year reader, 2nd year SaShiSu

Your arrival at Jujutsu High was supposed to be a fresh start. This is a place to hone your ability, make friends and maybe carve out a small place for you in the chaotic place of Jujutsu sorcery. But from the moment you arrived, three individuals became unavoidable.

You have this sweet 'little sister' vibe, the charm seemed to attract attention like a magnet. Despite being one of the strongest among the first years, people couldn’t help but dote on you. You didn’t mind, though. The extra care felt… comforting, even if it was a little stifling at times.

You had heard whispers of the infamous second-year trio before—their names carried weight and intrigue among the students. But you never expected to cross paths with one of them so soon.

It started in the library. You were searching for a book on cursed tools, perched precariously on a chair to reach a high shelf. Just as the book’s spine slid free, the chair wobbled, sending you off balance. A gasp escaped your lips, but before you could hit the ground, strong hands caught you mid-air.

“Careful there” a deep, calm voice murmured.

You glanced up, heart racing, to meet the dark eyes of Geto Suguru. “Thank you,” you stammered, your cheeks warming as he set you upright.

He nodded, offering a polite smile before walking away.

Later that evening, you stayed in the library until dusk, engrossed in your reading. The quiet comfort was interrupted by the faint sound of footsteps behind you. You turned, startled, to see none other than Shoko Ieiri.

“Eh… so there are dedicated students left at this school. How rare.” she drawled, her tone teasing as she pulled out a cigarette.

Before she could light it, you quickly stopped her. “You’re in a library, so…”

“Oh, oops” she said, slipping the cigarette back into her pocket with a lazy wave. “Anyway, see you around.”

And just like that, she was gone, leaving you to wonder about the strange second years you’d encountered that day.

--------

The next day, you found yourself at the training field. Your usual teacher was away, leaving Geto and Shoko to oversee your class’s exercises. While your classmates struggled with the challenges they set, you managed to hold your own, much to their amusement.

“Not bad” Geto remarked, his gaze lingering on you a moment too long. Shoko smirked beside him, her eyes glinting with something unreadable.

When the session ended, you excused yourself and headed to the canteen, eager for a quiet lunch. It had become your habit to eat here, where the hum of conversation was comforting and the food was decent.

But today, the canteen was eerily empty, save for one figure.

At a nearby table, Satoru Gojo sat slumped forward, his face buried in his arms. His signature white hair made him unmistakable, even at a distance. You tried to ignore him, focusing on your meal, but his presence was impossible to overlook.

Then, as if sensing your gaze, he suddenly lifted his head. His blindfold was missing, revealing piercing blue eyes that locked onto yours.

“You!” he called out, his voice startlingly loud in the silence.

You froze, unsure how to respond as his stare seemed to pierce through you.

“Whatcha looking at?” he asked, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Before you could stammer out an answer, another voice cut in.

“Satoru, you’re scaring her.”

Geto appeared behind him, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to Gojo’s brashness. Relief flooded you at the sight of him.

Gojo groaned, slumping back in his seat. “I wasn’t scaring her. Was I?” he asked, turning to you with a pout.

“N-No” you replied quickly, though your heart was still racing.

Geto chuckled softly, his dark eyes studying you intently. “You’ve got a way of attracting attention, don’t you?”

You weren’t sure how to respond, so you quickly excused yourself and left the canteen, feeling their gazes follow you all the way out.

As the days passed, the trio seemed to weave themselves into your life in ways you couldn’t escape. Geto’s quiet yet commanding presence, Shoko’s teasing but strangely protective demeanor, and Gojo’s overwhelming energy, each of them seemed to orbit around you, pulling you into their gravitational field.

And while they treated you with an almost obsessive care, there was something unsettling about the way their attention lingered. Geto’s gentle smiles lasted a beat too long. Shoko’s casual remarks often carried an edge that made your stomach twist. And Gojo… Gojo’s playful teasing always felt like it was concealing something darker.

You wanted to believe their intentions were good, but their intensity was suffocating. Every glance, every touch, every word seemed to trap you further in their web.

--------

You received a mission.

The mission had seemed simple enough: a first-year assignment to exorcise a few low-grade curses plaguing an abandoned factory. Your teacher had been confident in your ability to lead the group, given your strength and strategic thinking. The second years were preoccupied with their own training exercises, leaving you and your classmates to handle things on your own.

At first, everything went according to plan. The curses were weak and predictable, and you systematically eliminated them one by one. But as you ventured deeper into the factory, a sinister presence began to gnaw at the edges of your senses.

And then it appeared.

A Grade 1 curse emerged from the shadows, its grotesque form towering over you and your classmates. Panic spread like wildfire among your team as the curse unleashed its power. You fought with everything you had, managing to shield your classmates from its attacks. But its movements were erratic, and in a single devastating strike, you were thrown across the room, crashing into a wall.

The impact was brutal. Pain erupted in your side as you crumpled to the ground, blood pooling beneath you. Your vision blurred, and the world around you became a haze of shouts and the curse’s guttural growls.

Your classmates rallied, calling for help through their communicator. But it was clear they were outmatched, and their fear only worsened as they saw you lying motionless.

Meanwhile, the second years were wrapping up their training session on the other side of campus. Shoko stretched lazily, her cigarette dangling between her fingers as she glanced at Geto.

“Think the first years are managing without us?” she asked, smirking.

Geto chuckled. “They’ll be fine. It’s a low-grade mission. Besides, they’ve got her.”

But their casual banter was interrupted by the crackle of a distress call over the communicator.

“This is Team 1. We need immediate backup! Grade 1 curse encountered—severe injuries! Please send someone!”

Shoko’s smirk vanished. “What the hell?” she muttered, straightening up.

Geto’s expression darkened, his usually calm demeanor replaced with a sharp edge. “Who’s injured?” he demanded, grabbing the communicator from a nearby table.

The response was immediate, but it was the words they dreaded: “It’s her. She’s down.”

For a moment, time seemed to stop. Shoko’s cigarette slipped from her fingers, forgotten, as she and Geto exchanged a glance.

“Where are they?” Geto barked, his voice colder than you’d ever heard it.

“Abandoned factory near the west district.”

��Stay there!” Geto snapped. “We’re on our way.”

When they arrived, the scene was chaos. The curse had been subdued by a reinforcement team, but the damage was done. Your classmates hovered nearby, their faces pale with fear and guilt.

And there you were, lying on a stretcher, your uniform soaked with blood. Your breathing was shallow, your face pale.

Geto was at your side in an instant, his usual composure completely shattered. “What happened?” he demanded, his voice shaking as he assessed your injuries.

“She shielded us.....” one of your classmates whispered, their voice trembling. “If she hadn’t… we’d all be dead.”

Shoko crouched beside you, her hands already glowing with healing energy. “Idiot,” she muttered, though her tone was thick with worry. “You push yourself too damn far.”

“She shouldn’t have been in this situation!” Geto growled, his hands clenched into fists. His dark eyes burned with fury, though whether it was directed at himself, the curse, or your teacher for leaving you unprotected, it was hard to tell.

Shoko worked quickly, stabilizing your condition, but it was clear you were in no state to wake up anytime soon.

Later, in the infirmary, Geto and Shoko stayed by your side, refusing to leave.

“She’ll be fine” Shoko said softly, though the tension in her voice betrayed her own uncertainty.

Geto sat silently, his gaze fixed on your unconscious form. His usually serene expression was tight with guilt and something far darker.

“If I had been there…” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

“She’s strong,” Shoko said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Stronger than we give her credit for. But next time…” Her tone grew cold. “Next time, we make sure no one touches her.”

Geto nodded, his resolve hardening. “No one.”

And as you lay there, unaware of their whispered vows, the air in the room seemed to shift, an unspoken promise that they would never let you face danger alone again, no matter the cost.

Gojo, meanwhile, remained unaware of the incident, busy with his own responsibilities.

------

It wasn’t long before Gojo heard about the incident. Word spread quickly, and as soon as he caught wind of it, he stormed into the infirmary like a hurricane.

“What the hell happened?” he demanded, his voice echoing through the room. His usually carefree demeanor was replaced with a rare intensity, his blindfold pushed up to reveal furious blue eyes.

Shoko glanced up from where she was checking your vitals, her expression calm but tired. “She’s stable. That’s all that matters right now.”

“Stable?” Gojo snapped, pacing. “She nearly died! Why wasn’t anyone there to back her up?” His glare landed on Geto, who sat quietly at your bedside, his hands folded as if in silent prayer.

“Don’t start with me, Satoru,” Geto said, his voice low. “You weren’t there either.”

“And that’s why I’m pissed!” Gojo shot back. “I should’ve been there. I could’ve-”

“She doesn’t need your guilt” Shoko interrupted sharply. “What she needs is rest. So shut up and let her recover.”

Gojo fell silent, though his jaw clenched as he looked down at your pale face.

Days passed, and eventually, you regained consciousness. Your body was sore, and your memories of the mission were hazy, but relief washed over you as you saw familiar faces surrounding you.

“You’re awake” Geto said softly, leaning forward.

Shoko offered a small smile. “About time. You’ve had us worried, kid.”

Even Gojo seemed uncharacteristically serious. “Don’t ever scare us like that again, got it?”

As you recovered, you noticed something strange. Your cursed energy felt… different. Stronger, sharper, as if the experience had awakened something dormant within you. You discovered a new ability—a defensive barrier that activated instinctively, a shield born from your determination to protect your classmates. The realization filled you with pride, though it didn’t erase the weight of what had happened.

Not long after, the higher-ups summoned you. Despite your recent injury, they deemed you ready for another mission, eager to test your newfound strength.

When word reached Shoko, Geto, and Gojo, the response was immediate.

“She’s not going.” Geto said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

“She just got out of the infirmary” Shoko added, crossing her arms. “Are you trying to kill her?”

Even Gojo, who often challenged authority with his carefree attitude, was deadly serious. “If you send her out again, I’ll personally make sure you regret it.”

The elders hesitated, clearly unnerved by the trio’s united front. They ultimately relented, agreeing to delay the mission.

As you regained your strength, one of your classmates approached you in private. He was the one you’d saved during the mission, and his gratitude was evident in his every word.

“I… I just wanted to say thank you...” he said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “You saved my life back there. I don’t know how to repay you, but maybe… would you like to go out? Just for lunch or something?”

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden proposal. “Oh, um… I guess?”

He beamed, looking both relieved and excited. “Great! How about this weekend?”

You agreed, unaware of the eyes watching from the shadows.

The day of the “date” arrived. You were nervous but determined to enjoy the rare moment of normalcy. Your classmate met you at a small café in town, his cheerful energy helping ease your nerves.

What you didn’t realize was that the trio was never far behind.

Geto lingered outside the café, his sharp eyes fixed on you through the window. Shoko, disguised in casual clothes, sat at a nearby table, pretending to scroll through her phone. And Gojo, as unsubtle as ever, leaned against the counter, chatting with the barista while keeping an eye on your every move.

As the date progressed, their silent interference began.

The waiter mysteriously got your order wrong, delaying your food. Shoko “accidentally” spilled her drink near your table, forcing your classmate to help clean up. And when you both tried to leave for a walk, Geto casually stepped in front of the door, pretending to inspect the weather outside.

Your classmate grew increasingly flustered by the strange occurrences, but you didn’t think much of it—until Gojo decided to make his presence known.

“Yo!” he called out, striding over with his signature grin. “Fancy running into you here!”

You froze, confusion and embarrassment flooding your face. “Gojo-senpai? What are you-”

“Just grabbing a coffee~” he said smoothly, though the amused glint in his eyes betrayed his true intentions. He turned to your classmate, his grin widening. “And who’s this? A friend of yours?”

Your classmate stammered, clearly intimidated by Gojo’s overwhelming presence.

Before you could respond, Shoko appeared at your side, her arm casually draped over your shoulder. “We were just about to head out, weren’t we?” she said, ignoring your confused look.

Geto joined the group a moment later, his calm smile hiding the possessiveness simmering beneath. “Let’s not keep her too long. She still needs to rest.”

Caught between your upperclassmen and your increasingly nervous classmate, the date was effectively over.

As the trio led you away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Their protectiveness, once comforting, now felt suffocating. But as Geto’s hand rested lightly on your shoulder, Shoko’s teasing laughter rang in your ears, and Gojo’s grin loomed above you, you realized you couldn’t escape them, not that easily.

------

The second mission was supposed to be simple, a routine exorcism with Gojo as your partner. Given your recent injury, the higher-ups had decided you wouldn’t go alone this time, and Gojo insisted he’d keep you safe.

“Relax” he said with a smirk as you both entered the cursed area. “With me here, nothing can touch you.”

Despite his confidence, you stayed vigilant. The cursed spirits weren’t difficult to deal with, but halfway through, you felt a sudden spike of cursed energy. Before you could react, a sneak attack came from the shadows, a cursed blade aimed directly at Gojo’s back.

“Look out!” you shouted, throwing yourself in the way. The blade grazed your arm, slicing through your uniform and leaving a shallow but painful wound.

Gojo turned instantly, his hand snapping out to catch the attacker with ease. His grin vanished, replaced by a chilling glare.

“You’ve got guts trying to touch her” he said, his tone unnervingly calm as he crushed the curse with one hand.

Before you could catch your breath, a new figure appeared, a bounty hunter hired to disrupt the mission. The man was skilled, his cursed energy strong, but he was no match for Gojo.

“I’ll make this quick.” Gojo said, his voice icy. Within moments, the man was incapacitated, left crumpled on the ground.

“Are you okay?” Gojo asked, turning to you. His tone softened, but the tension in his posture remained.

“I’m fine” you said, clutching your bleeding arm. “It’s just a scratch.”

But the look in his eyes said otherwise.

-------

That night, after returning to Jujutsu High, you found yourself restless. Your encounter with the bounty hunter had shaken you, but more than that, it was the trio’s unwavering presence in your life that weighed on your mind.

You couldn’t ignore it anymore, the way they hovered, the way they claimed to protect you yet suffocated you in the process. But despite it all, you couldn’t deny your feelings. Somewhere along the way, their twisted devotion had captured your heart.

Summoning your courage, you asked to meet them in private. The three of them arrived almost immediately, concern etched on their faces.

“What’s wrong?” Geto asked, his voice gentle but laced with worry.

“I… I need to tell you something” you began, your voice trembling. “I know you care about me. And I know I’ve been relying on you a lot. But this… this is too much. I can’t keep living like this, always feeling like I’m being controlled.”

Their expressions darkened, but you pushed forward.

“That said… I care about you, too. I don’t know when it started, but I can’t deny it anymore. I love you—all three of you.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, to your surprise, Shoko let out a soft laugh.

“You’re something else, you know that?” she said, her tone both affectionate and exasperated.

Geto sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We’ve been too overbearing. I can admit that much. But it’s because we can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

Gojo grinned, though his usual playfulness was tinged with something darker. “So you’re saying you love us, but you want space? That’s cute, but you know we’re not the kind to back off so easily.”

Your heart sank. “I’m serious. I need boundaries. You can’t keep interfering in my life like this.”

Geto stepped closer, his expression unreadable. “We understand,” he said softly. “But…”

“But we’re not giving up,” Shoko finished, her eyes gleaming.

Gojo leaned in, his grin widening. “You’re ours, whether you admit it or not.”

--------

In the weeks that followed, things seemed to settle. The trio gave you more space, respecting your wishes on the surface. But beneath their smiles and reassurances, something darker was brewing.

You began to notice small changes. Your schedule became mysteriously clear of difficult missions. Classmates who showed interest in you suddenly grew distant, avoiding you without explanation. And no matter where you went, one of the three was always nearby.

It wasn’t until you overheard them talking late one night that the full extent of their plan became clear.

“She’s too vulnerable out there” Geto said. “We need to protect her, even if she doesn’t realize it.”

Shoko’s voice was calm but firm. “We’ve already adjusted her mission roster. It’s only a matter of time before the higher-ups agree to keep her closer to campus.”

“And if they don’t,” Gojo added, his tone light but with a chilling edge, “we’ll make them.”

Your blood ran cold as you realized what they were doing. They weren’t just protecting you, they were isolating you, tying you closer to them with every move they made.

--------

One night, they cornered you in the quiet of the school gardens. “We’ve been thinking,” Geto began, his voice as smooth as ever“about what’s best for you.”

“And we’ve decided,” Shoko added, her gaze steady“that staying here, with us, is the safest option.”

Gojo stepped forward, his usual grin replaced with something far more intense. “You love us, right? Then trust us. Let us take care of everything.”

You backed away, your heart pounding. “This isn’t what I wanted. I love you, but I can’t live like this.”

Geto caught your wrist gently, his touch firm but not painful. “You’ll understand eventually. We’re doing this because we love you, too.”

Before you could protest further, Shoko pressed something into your hand, a small charm infused with cursed energy. “This will keep you safe” she said, though the unspoken message was clear: it would also keep you bound to them.

Gojo cupped your face, his grin softening as he looked into your eyes. “Don’t fight it. You’re ours now.”

And as their overwhelming presence surrounded you, suffocating yet strangely comforting, you realized there was no escape.

They weren’t just protecting you—they were keeping you. Forever.

-----------

Once again, thank you for your request✨

To my readers out there, feel free to send me more ideas. I love receiving new contents. Some were so good that I didn't know how you can come up with them🫶🏻

I watch a lot of anime & I read a lot, so I'm pretty sure I can keep up with your requests no matter what fandom that is👌

#yandere x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sashisu #yandere sashisu #yandere gojo #yandere shoko #yandere geto #jujutsu kaisen

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transmutationisms · 20 hours ago

Note

can i ask you some of your thoughts on nosferatu regarding one, the hardings? two, i though Nichlas hoult acting was great, the best on there imo, what about you? and three, what was the scene between ellen and thomas where she confesses what happened to her supposed to mean?

i thought this adaptation had approximately the correct amount of the hardings, which is to say not very much but they're there to contrast very blonde-ly and married-ly against ellen with her hysterical spells and high sensitivity and fragile body that is prone to being invaded by destabilising forces of eastern influence. killing off anna did annoy me on principle and the arthur character was kind of useless & pointless after that so i do wish eggers had been willing to break with previous adaptations more on that. but situating ellen in the bourgeois nuclear family home while she's fighting with her shame over what she perceives as her culpability in her own sexual abuse is very effective horror, and i did like when anna and ellen are in bed together or even just walking on the beach or whatever -- this film is not driven by character studies by any means but their intimacy is decently shorthanded i think.

i was not really a fan of hoult's performance tbh i thought it was mostly forgettable. lily rose depp was good and willem defoe was reliably good. none of the acting jumped out to me as terrible but i would say hoult's was the weakest.

i'm not sure exactly what you mean by 'what does it mean' haha but i thought it was emblematic of what really works in eggers's decision to foreground sexual abuse like this. first of all this scene is one of the only times i've ever cared about the jonathan/mina characters' relationship because it gives us actual insight into their dynamic -- both of them care for one another, but jonathan has difficulty fully comprehending the gravity of what ellen is telling him, and when he does react to her confession that she (believes she has) asked for & brought on the evil that is orlok, he recoils from her, despite having only just confessed that he too has been violated by orlok. jonathan resolves the crisis for himself by interpreting ellen's confession as his call to heroism, positioning himself as saviour in a way that he believes will also override the feminising effects of his rape at orlok's hands (note also that ellen herself calls jonathan effeminate for this). but ellen throughout the entire film is the character who comes closest to understanding what'a actually going on, despite her distorted conviction for most of it that she is uniquely perverted & blameworthy, and the confession scene too shows us that ellen is unconvinced by this idea of going hand to hand with the monster and saving the day. the film's actual terrain is in the emotional pull & conflict between ellen and orlok. she knows from the jump that jonathan's little saviour fantasy is an irrelevant detour; her superstitions / connection to the occult figure her as a cassandra & telegraph to us in the confession scene that she cares terribly for jonathan but simultaneously knows that neither of them can save the other. for jonathan the scene is an unburdening, and he believes this to be the happy outcome of having confessed; what we see instead is that his burden has merely been shouldered silently by the film's actual hero, ellen. herzog tried to pull this off in his 1979 adaptation but thematically eggers achieves more of that vision here, and with almost as many cats to boot.

#nosferatu

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anpanman95 · 1 hour ago

Text

EPISODE 11

“Still can’t believe they threw a child off a balcony”

“Don’t let me see your face ever again!”

“this is why we don’t lie to our partners”

“that was unnecessary tho”

Boss: “how’s Toi Ting doing?”

“SON OF A BITCH”

Save: “you awake?”

“no he’s still sleeping you dumb fuck” [bro despises Save]

Joke cries in his room

“He’s literally a kicked puppy”

“the gang are actually their kids and now that they’re fighting Jack has custody of them”

Plan A Attack

“they fuck are they doing”

“they are truly their kids left unsupervised”

“A BOMB”

“They really went from useless to psychopaths real fast”

“Tattoo you crazy motherfucker”

Dog Scene

[no comment, mouth open the whole time]

“I respect Jack. I respect him a lot”

Save defeats Boss in Monopoly

“woof woof motherfucker”

Carbon goes to Jack’s house

“GOD THIS BITCH I SWEAR”

“GRANDMA NO HES GONNA KILL YOU”

“….ALRIGHT??? NEVERMIND”

“with dumplings….”

��Go grandma!!!”

“SHE’s JUST AN OLD LADY DUDE”

“JACK WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU”

EPISODE 12

Boss fires his gun to Save’s feet

“CRAZY FUCK”

“damn Hope you okay there dude”

“Carbon can eat my ass”

“Somebody needs to kill that motherfucker”

Aran grabs the axe

“the fuck are you gonna do with that sweetie”

“damn Rose didn’t even need to be here”

“Carbon is kinda fine not gonna lie”

“not as fine as my man Jack here”

“Those are four letter words man”

“HAHA ZORRY”

JackJoke hugging

“dont tell me they defeat him with the power of love”

Jackjoke kiss

“there is a BOMB around is neck but oKAY I guess it’s time to make out”

“Haha Rose it sucks to be you im sorry girl”

“You know? I was wondering if the ring really gave him all that power”

“Nice criticism to society. I see what they did here” [I sighed in relief when he got it]

“NO BOSS YOU CAN’T DIE”

“Aw…I feel kinda bad for him”

“They gave Toi Ting a cape to fly in case someone tries to throw her off a bALCONY” [still pressed about it]

Last Few Comments:

“so that Oh lady died?”

“aw…”

“THEY BASICALLY GOT ENGAGED”

“NO THE ICE CREAM”

they kiss

“aww okay I guess”

“they never stop at one kiss they always have to eat each other”

“I respect that”

“what do you mean there’s no season 2???”

“A WEDDING????”

FIN.

Thanks for riding along!! He loved the show. It was his first BL show and he did not disappoint ❣️

[By the way he thought this kiss was a bit anticlimactic since according to him no one is crazy enough to ignore the fact there’s a bomb about to explode and kill them just so they can make out but still, he respects their insanity lol]

because no one can stop me, I also made my brother (non BL watcher) watch Jack and Joker cause he’s awesome and I knew he’d love it.

His comments? Absolute gold. Here are a few

EP 1 and 2

“Raising him was a waste of time”

“damn okay”

“so…his name is Joke and picks JOKER as his secret identity. Smart cookie this one”

“I never thought my actions could affect someone like this”

“oKAY BRO BUT YOU ROBBED A BANK?!?!?!! HOW DID YOU NOT SEE THIS COMING”

[Jack spits on Joke’s notebook]

“stick that notebook where the sun don’t shine man idk what to tell you”

[Jack stabs the knife only shy away from Joke’s face and threatens to kill him]

“that was a tad gay”

[he got pretty upset with Joke in the first 2 episodes and that’s an understatement, but he’s grown to like him]

EP 3

[Jessie and the rest go inside Boss’ jewelry room, well into the scene]

“WTF THAT’S JOKE WITH A WIG I DIDN’T REALIZE!!!” [I lost a lung, bro did not recognize War at all]

[Blonde War]

“how many wigs does he own”

[After Jack gives Joke the ring and helps him escape]

“that was the gayest fight I’ve ever seen”

[Tattoo betrays Joke]

“UNGRATEFUL LITTLE BITCH!!!”

anygays a pic of my queen to bless your timelines

#thai bl #thailand #bl series #bl drama #jack and joker u steal my heart #jack and joker #jack and joker the series #jackjoke #jackjoker #yinwar #yin anan #war wanarat

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lightdancingwords · 3 days ago

Text

One Day – Part Four of ?

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N Female character Series Summary: You were rescued by Dean Winchester a long time ago. Over time, you kept bumping into each other.

Word Count: 3422

Tags/Warnings: 18+ smut, angst (so much angst), grief, death of a loved one, alcohol, arguments, profanity

A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! Please see this post regarding future story posts. This is the first of I don’t know how many parts, haha. Enjoy the ride!

I created a tag list worksheet so you can select whichever you want to be tagged in!

Dividers: credit to @talesmaniac89

Chapter Four: Downward Turn

The bar was nearly empty, save for a few stragglers nursing their drinks in silence. Dean sat at the far end, slouched over the counter, his fingers absently tracing the rim of his whiskey glass. His leather jacket hung heavy on his shoulders, weighed down by more than just the cold night.

He tipped the glass back and felt the burn as the whiskey slid down his throat. It wasn’t enough—not even close to numbing the ache in his chest. The ache that whispered, over and over, This was your fault.

The bartender glanced his way, a question in her eyes. Dean shook his head, tapping the empty glass against the counter. She refilled it without a word, setting the bottle down as if she knew he’d need it again soon.

Dean stared into the amber liquid, the dim light from the neon beer sign reflecting off the surface. His mind wouldn’t stop replaying the moment John essentially said goodbye. He told Dean he was proud of him, that he had put such a burden on his son's shoulders. When he died, Dean finally realized what John had done—sold his soul to save Dean's life.

His jaw clenched as he downed another shot. The glass hit the counter with a dull thud, and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His reflection in the mirrored wall behind the bar caught his attention. Hollow eyes stared back at him, accusing.

“Why the hell did you do it?” he muttered, his voice hoarse. He didn’t know if he was talking to John, himself, or the universe. Maybe all three. “I didn’t deserve it. Not for me.”

The bartender hesitated near him, then moved away, giving him the space he didn’t realize he wanted. His hand shook slightly as he poured another drink, whiskey spilling over the edges. He didn’t care. Let it spill. Let the whole goddamn world drown with him.

He pressed his palms flat against the counter, the cool wood grounding him for a moment. His chest tightened as memories clawed their way to the surface—his father’s gruff laugh, the way he always barked orders like Dean was still a kid, the rare moments of softness that caught him off guard.

Dean exhaled sharply and leaned back in his stool. The silence around him wasn’t comforting. It was suffocating.

The bar door creaked open behind him, letting in a brief burst of cold night air. He barely noticed until a familiar voice cut through the haze.

“Dean.”

He stiffened, his shoulders tensing as he recognized Y/N. He didn’t turn around, his jaw tightening instead. “You shouldn’t be here,” he muttered, his voice low and rough.

Undeterred, Y/N slid onto the stool beside him, her presence grounding and unnerving all at once. “Yeah, well, neither should you,” she shot back, her tone light but edged with concern. Her eyes scanned his face, noting the hollowness in his expression and the tight set of his jaw.

Dean’s lip curled into a humorless smile. “You don’t give up, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you,” she said simply. Her directness caught him off guard, but he masked it with a scoff.

“Sam sent you,” he said, finally meeting her eyes. It wasn’t a question.

“He’s worried about you,” Y/N replied, leaning her elbows on the counter. “And after seeing you like this? I get it.”

Dean laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and grating. “So, what? You here to play shrink? Gonna ask me how I feel and tell me it’s all gonna be okay?”

“No,” Y/N said softly. “I’m here because I care about you. That’s it.”

Her words hit harder than Dean wanted to admit. He looked away, his throat tightening as he wrestled with the storm inside him. “You shouldn’t,” he muttered, almost too quietly for her to hear.

“Why not?” she pressed, her voice gentle but insistent.

“Because I’m not worth it,” Dean snapped, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “I’m not worth… any of this.”

Y/N leaned closer, her brow furrowing. “Dean—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, his voice sharp. He raked a hand through his hair, the tension in his body radiating outward. “You don’t get it, Y/N. You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“Then tell me,” she said, her tone steady but her eyes searching his face. “Help me understand.”

Dean clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. The words were there, clawing at his throat, but he couldn’t let them out. Admitting it out loud would make it real. Finally, he stood abruptly, nearly knocking over his stool. “I need some air,” he muttered, heading for the door.

The cold hit him like a slap, but it wasn’t enough to clear the fog in his head. He leaned against the Impala, the cool metal grounding him as he stared up at the starless sky. Y/N followed him, her footsteps crunching on the gravel.

“Dean,” she said softly, her voice carrying over the still night. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone.”

Dean shook his head, his breath visible in the cold air. “Yeah, I do,” he said bitterly. “That’s the deal. That’s always been the deal.”

Y/N stepped closer, her hand brushing his arm. “What deal?”

He turned to her, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “He traded his soul for me,” he said hoarsely. “My dad. He gave everything—everything—just so I could keep breathing.”

The confession hung in the air between them, heavy and raw. Y/N’s heart ached at the pain etched into Dean’s face. “And you think that makes you unworthy?” she asked gently.

“I know it does,” Dean replied, his voice breaking. “He should’ve let me go. I’m not worth the price he paid.”

Y/N cupped his face, her touch firm but tender, forcing him to look at her. “Dean Winchester, you are one of the most selfless, loyal, stubborn people I’ve ever met. You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, and you still keep going. If that’s not worth something, I don’t know what is.”

Dean’s breath hitched, his resolve crumbling under her gaze. Without thinking, he closed the distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a desperate, searing kiss. Y/N froze for a moment, startled by the intensity, but then she melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck.

The kiss deepened, a mixture of pain and longing fueling their movements. Dean pulled her closer, his hands gripping her waist as if she were the only thing keeping him from falling apart. “Come here,” he murmured against her lips, his voice low and rough.

Y/N let him guide her to the Impala, the familiar scent of leather and gun oil enveloping them as they slid inside. The confined space only heightened the urgency between them. Dean’s hands roamed over her, his touch both tentative and fervent, as if he were afraid she might disappear.

“Dean,” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. She cupped his face again, her thumb brushing against his stubbled jaw. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

But Dean didn’t reply. Instead, he kissed her again, pouring every ounce of his pain, guilt, and longing into it. For that moment, he let himself forget. Forget the weight on his shoulders, the ache in his chest, and the darkness threatening to consume him. All that mattered was Y/N—the way she felt, the way she made him feel like he wasn’t completely broken.

The Impala’s interior was dim, the faint glow from the streetlights filtering through the windows as Dean leaned into Y/N, their breaths mingling in the confined space. The kiss deepened, his lips moving against hers with a raw urgency that bordered on desperation. His hands gripped her waist, strong and trembling all at once, as if holding on to her was the only thing tethering him to the world.

Y/N responded in kind, her fingers threading into his short hair, pulling him closer. The heat between them grew, a wildfire consuming every shred of hesitation. Dean shifted, his body pressing against hers, the leather seat creaking under their movements. The scent of him—whiskey, leather, and something uniquely Dean—flooded her senses, intoxicating her more than any drink ever could.

His hands began to roam, skimming over her hips, sliding up her sides, and tangling in the fabric of her shirt. His touch was rough yet reverent, like he was trying to memorize every curve, every detail, as if she might slip away at any moment. “God, Y/N,” he breathed against her lips, his voice low and raw. “I need this—I need you.”

“Dean,” she whispered, her voice shaky yet filled with conviction. She pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. The vulnerability she saw there stole her breath. He wasn’t just seeking comfort—he was seeking an escape, a lifeline in the storm raging inside him.

She cupped his face, her thumbs brushing over the scruff of his jaw. “I’m here,” she said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Her words seemed to undo him. Dean surged forward, kissing her with even more fervor, his hands sliding beneath her shirt to touch bare skin. She shivered at the contact, her body arching into his as he explored her with a mix of tenderness and hunger. His fingers traced the curve of her spine, the dip of her waist, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

Y/N tugged at his jacket, and he shrugged it off, letting it fall onto the floorboard. Her hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, fumbling slightly in her haste to undo them. Dean chuckled softly, the sound dark and breathless, as he helped her, shrugging out of the flannel and tossing it aside. The moment her palms touched his bare chest, his breath hitched, and his lips found her neck, kissing and nibbling a path along her jawline and down to her collarbone.

“Y/N,” he murmured, her name like a prayer on his lips. His hands found her thighs, gripping them firmly as he pulled her closer, guiding her to straddle him. Her knees sank into the seat on either side of his hips, and the new position brought their bodies flush together. Dean groaned softly at the contact, his hands sliding up to cradle her hips, pressing her down against him.

The air inside the Impala grew thick with heat and the sound of their ragged breaths. Y/N’s hands were everywhere—his chest, his shoulders, his neck—like she couldn’t get enough of him. Dean buried his face in her neck, his lips brushing over her pulse point as he whispered, “You feel so good.”

His hands slid beneath her shirt again, pushing it upward. She lifted her arms, letting him pull it off and discard it. His gaze raked over her, his eyes dark with desire and something deeper, something unspoken. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. Before she could respond, his lips were on hers again, kissing her deeply as his hands roamed over her bare skin.

The barriers between them fell away piece by piece, clothes discarded in the cramped space until the heat of their skin pressed together, igniting a fire that couldn’t be contained. Dean’s movements were hurried, almost frantic, but there was an undercurrent of tenderness in every touch, every kiss. It was as though he was trying to pour all his grief and longing into her, to lose himself in the feel of her and forget the weight of the world, if only for a little while.

When their bodies joined, it was with an intensity that stole their breaths. Dean’s hands gripped her hips tightly, guiding her movements as they found a rhythm that was both desperate and unrelenting. His forehead pressed against hers, their breaths mingling as they moved together, each thrust a wordless plea for connection.

Y/N’s nails raked down his back, her gasps and moans filling the space between them. “Dean,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I’m here. I’m here.”

Her words seemed to drive him further. He kissed her fiercely, his hands cradling her face as their bodies moved in perfect sync. The Impala’s windows fogged up, the car rocking slightly as they lost themselves in each other. Dean’s grip on her tightened as he buried his face in her neck, his breaths ragged and uneven.

When they finally stilled, their bodies tangled together, the air inside the car was thick with the aftermath of their passion. Dean rested his head against her shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around her as if letting go wasn’t an option. Y/N ran her fingers through his hair, her touch soothing as they sat in the silence, their breathing slowly evening out.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Dean allowed himself a moment of peace, his pain momentarily dulled by the warmth of her embrace.

Somehow, during the night, they’d fallen asleep in each other’s embrace. Dean had pulled his jacket around them as he held Y/N in his arms, as though he never wanted to let her go, ever. When the morning sun peeked over the horizon, almost blinding them, their peaceful sleep was shattered.

Dean grunted, the painful headache of a hangover forming between his brows. The warmth of Y/N’s presence and body soothed his aching heart, even though she couldn’t touch the soul-deep grief and ongoing self-blame.

Y/N burrowed her face into him and muttered, “Shut off the sun.”

He grinned fleetingly as he rubbed her back. “Wish I could, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Have you stay with me longer.”

She peered up at him, her brain fuzzy with sleep. “Why wouldn’t I stay with you?”

“Come on, you can’t tell me you’re gonna stay and not go hunting again,” Dean said, having assumed she was only there to check on him and leave again. That’d been their pattern for the last several years. He hadn’t realized that she might actually want to stay.

Y/N regarded him soberly. “Do you want me to leave, Dean?”

His gaze shifted to her, and he felt that roil in his stomach. A night of drinking and fucking had all he’d ever been good for. During the day, he’d hunt. That was his thing, his shtick. “Everyone leaves me, Y/N,” he whispered.

“Dean…”

“Just look at it. My dad’s dead,” he said, the word tasting like ash. “Because of me. I should’ve been the one to go. Not him. Never him.”

Y/N didn’t say anything at first, letting the silence fill the space between them. When she finally spoke, her voice was low but firm. “Dean, your dad made a choice. One he thought was worth it. You didn’t force him to do it.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He shook his head. “I wasn’t enough for him when he was alive. I sure as hell wasn’t enough to stop him from—” His voice broke, and he clenched his jaw to keep from unraveling.

“Stop,” Y/N said sharply, drawing his gaze. “That’s not fair to you. Or to him. You think your dad would want you to sit here, blaming yourself, wasting away?”

Dean opened his mouth to argue, but she didn’t let him.

“You’ve always been enough, Dean. More than enough. Maybe your dad didn’t say it enough, or maybe you didn’t hear it, but it’s true.” Her hand covered his, grounding him. “You’re not alone in this.”

The intensity of her words broke something in him, and before he could stop himself, he leaned in. His lips met hers in a desperate kiss, one that tasted of whiskey and grief, of longing and gratitude.

Y/N responded just as fervently, her hand sliding up to his jaw, her fingers threading through his hair. For a moment, the pain in his chest dulled, replaced by the warmth of her touch, her closeness.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless. Dean rested his forehead against hers, his voice a whisper. “I don’t deserve this.”

Y/N cupped his face, her thumb brushing against his cheek. “Yeah, you do. Even if you don’t see it, I do.”

He closed his eyes, and for a moment, allowed himself to soak in the comfort she offered. Then, quietly, he asked, “Are you gonna stay?”

She met his gaze, saw the vulnerability, the desperate need, and nodded. “I’ll stay.”

He pulled her in for another kiss, lingering for a long moment. “We should probably get dressed before someone sees us,” he said with a wry grin. “Not that I would mind.”

“Oh you!” she said with a laugh and a blush, slapping his shoulder. “God, is that all you ever think of?”

“Sweetheart,” he said with a laugh, pulling on his boxer briefs, “every time I saw you, I kept wanting to grab you in a kiss and drag you to the nearest flat surface.”

She stared at him for a moment, and for a beat, Dean worried that he went too far. Then she grinned. “You needed a flat surface? You? Couldn’t push me against a wall or bend me over a chair or—”

Dean grinned and slipped a hand behind her neck to bring her to him for another kiss. They were breathless when they broke apart and he murmured to her lips, “You deserved a little bit better than that.”

She gave him a wry look. “Dean, we’re in the back of the Impala.”

“Okay, in my defense, this wasn’t planned,” he said with an impish smile. “I wasn’t expecting you. I was planning to just… drink myself into a stupor.”

Her expression softened. She clasped her bra and then brushed her fingers across his cheek. “I’m glad Sam called me. I’m glad I wasn’t so far that I couldn’t get here in time to be here with you. I’m glad I could be here for you.”

“Uh, yeah,” Dean said, and he gave her a peculiar look. “Why were you so close by anyway?”

“Believe it or not, I was doing research in the town over. I didn’t even know you and Sam were here.” She wiggled into her jeans and for a moment, Dean had to keep his libido in check. He definitely wanted her again… and again… and again. Oh boy.

“Yeah? Research on what?” he asked, tugging his flannel shirt back on and buttoning it up.

“Spirits.”

He stopped and narrowed his eyes at her. “Still? That’s what you were talking to Missouri about.”

“Yes, still,” she said with a quick smile. “Research doesn’t stop just because I was talking to a few experts.”

“You ever gonna tell me what it’s about?” Y/N pretended to consider it as Dean put his leather jacket back on. After a long silence, he scoffed. “Really? Nothing? Not a single word? Just going to leave me hanging?”

“Yes.”

“Come on,” he pressed. “I mean… why can’t you tell me?”

“Dean,” she said warningly. “Don’t. Drop it.”

“Drop it?” His good mood, tenuous as it was, evaporated. “I just want to know what’s going on! Why is that making me the bad guy?”

“It’s not,” Y/N said, her own patience wearing thin. “But some things aren’t mine to share. So again… drop it.”

“You know what?” Dean knew it was a mistake the moment he said, but it was too late. “Maybe you should go. Go keep your fucking secrets.” He got out of the Impala and slammed the door.

Y/N was furious, got out of the car, and slammed her door as well. “Are you kidding me? That’s how it’s going to be? I ask for some level of privacy and you decide to say fuck it? Just… just push me away?!”

“Yeah! Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!”

“Dammit, Dean, listen to some sense!” She tried to catch his arm, only to immediately release it after the death glare he gave her.

“Don��t,” Dean said coldly. It was better this way, wasn’t it? Push everyone away and maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much to lose them. Later, much later, when he had a chance to calm down, cool off, he would realize what a damned idiot he was.

Y/N took a step back and he slid into the driver’s seat. He refused to look at her. If he looked at her, he’d change his mind. He started up the Impala, threw it into reverse, and spun out of the parking lot.

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2

@foxyjwls007, @katastrophicmind, @globetrotter28, @deansimpalababy, @daisychaingirl

@nancymcl, @deans-baby-momma, @kickingitwithkirk

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kikyoupdates · 2 days ago

Text

Made to Destroy ⭑˚💎⭑ 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠ℎ

bnha x op!reader

op!reader, my hero academia x fem!reader, reverse harem, over powered reader, f!reader

You are the product of a series of twisted experiments, an anomaly that shouldn’t have ever existed in the first place. Thankfully, you are taken into the arms of a hero and given a new purpose in life. But as you soon discover, it isn’t easy to deny your true nature, especially when you were made to destroy.

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“The man’s been taken into custody. Thank you as always for your assistance, Eraserhead. And I’m guessing this is the girl you mentioned?”

Aizawa nods. “Yeah. She was hungry, so I wanted to grab her some food while you were dealing with the perpetrator.”

“I hope she’s feeling a bit better now,” the policeman says. He frowns as he looks you over, which seems to be a recurring trend. “Are you cold, young lady? Your feet must hurt, walking around like that.”

“I’m fine,” you say. “I ate two burgers, and they were really good.”

“Haha. I’m glad to hear that.” He looks back at Aizawa hopefully. “Well, I think she should probably come down to the station. We’ve got a lot of questions for her.”

“Why? Aizawa already asked me some questions, and I answered them,” you frown.

“Yes, but they’re the police,” Aizawa explains. “I’m a hero, so I fight villains, but the police excels at gathering information and getting to the bottom of things. They'll figure out everything they need to know and get you back home, safe and sound.”

“I don’t have a home.”

Even though it’s only been a few hours since you’ve taken your first breath, that much, you know for a fact.

You don’t have a home. You don’t have a place in this world.

If you want to live, like everyone else, you’ll have to forge your own path.

“I think she’s forgotten some things,” Aizawa explains. “I think it might be a response to trauma. But she’s adamant about one man’s involvement, and it sounds like that’s who we need to track down. Maybe we should start with something simpler, like locating her family. Could you find them on the registry?”

“We could try,” the policeman nods. He turns towards you again. “[Name], what’s your family name? Your last name. Even just knowing that would be a big help.”

“I don’t have a last name.” You pause, frowning slightly. “Or maybe I do? But I’m not sure. I just know that I’m [Name]. That’s all.”

Neither of them seems particularly thrilled with your answer, which feels unfair, because you’ve been nothing but truthful.

Aizawa scratches his head. “Well, this is kind of what it’s like. There are clearly a lot of factors in play, and quite frankly, I’m not sure where to start. But it’s obvious that she’s been through a lot and needs our help.”

“Of course,” the policeman nods. “We’ll do everything in our power to fix this. In the meantime, while we track down her family, we should find someplace for her to stay and get some rest. The police station probably isn’t ideal. Maybe child services is better equipped to deal with this sort of thing?”

“I want to stay with Aizawa,” you say. Of course, you don’t really understand what they’re talking about, but so far, Aizawa has yet to let you down. You’d like for him to be with you from now on.

The policeman smiles. “Eraserhead is a good guy, but being a hero keeps him pretty busy. Don’t worry. We’ll find other nice people to take care of you, and I’m sure you’ll love them.”

After what you’ve already been through, you don’t really feel like taking any more chances. Aizawa is good. You like Aizawa.

There’s no point in fixing what isn’t broken.

“I’m staying with him,” you insist, grabbing Aizawa’s hand firmly. His eyes widen at the sudden gesture, but you feel his fingers instinctively squeeze yours.

“I understand how you feel,” the policeman mumbles nervously. “But, um, there are certain things that we just can’t—”

“No. It’s fine.” Aizawa looks down at you, and as he does, his dark eyes soften a touch. “I don’t mind. If it’s a temporary arrangement, I don’t mind looking after her. Whatever helps her feel the most comfortable until you guys get to the bottom of this.”

“Won’t it interfere with your hero duties?”

“I’m not the only hero out there. Besides, if something urgent comes up, I’ll make other arrangements so that someone watches over her, but odds are that you’ll have at least found a lead by then, right?”

“True,” he nods. “A missing child warrants a lot of concern. We’ll probably start getting phone calls within the day.”

“So, it’s fine. At least until then, [Name] will have somewhere to stay. I can have her rest for a while at my apartment. And if there’s anything you need, you know where to reach me.”

The policeman nods once more, and after they discuss a few more details that you can’t quite make sense of, you are finally free to go.

It doesn’t take very long to reach Aizawa’s apartment.

“Sorry for the mess,” he mumbles sheepishly. He then stops to reassess his words. “Actually, I guess kids don’t really care about that kind of stuff.”

He’s right. You don’t.

“This is your home?” you ask, looking around. It isn’t like anything you’ve ever seen before, but you suppose that’s to be expected, given your lack of general knowledge.

Aizawa nods. “Yeah, pretty much. I’ve got a TV, if you feel like watching cartoons or something. Hopefully you can find a show that you’ll like.”

He picks up a device and uses it to turn on another device, and you jolt in surprise as moving images appear upon a screen which was pitch-black just a second ago.

You shuffle closer to what you can only assume is the TV. “There are people in there,” you point. “But they’re so small. How?”

“Have you never watched anything on TV before?” he blinks.

You shake your head.

“...huh.”

Once again, he is completely lost for words. You tend to have that effect on people, and you’re not quite sure if it’s a good thing or not.

“Maybe this has to do with her missing memories,” he mumbles quietly. But he composes himself quickly enough and sits down next to you, cross-legged. “Those people aren’t really inside the TV,” he explains. “Everything you see here was filmed beforehand, and the image was captured so that we could watch it later on. Here, let me find the kids’ channel. It’s bound to be more fun than the weather report.”

He flicks through channels until he finally finds what he’s looking for, then turns towards you, waiting to see how you’ll react.

These are... cartoons? All of a sudden, the TV screen is awash with bright, vibrant colors, which are perhaps a bit too harsh on your eyes. For some reason, though, you can’t find it in yourself to look away. Even though you are an artificial human, your mental maturity is still that of a child, and you feel as if you’re in a trance.

Aizawa chuckles softly. You’ve clearly got a lot going on, but you’re just a kid, at the end of the day. An innocent little kid who likes to watch cartoons.

For a while, it’s silent, save for the sound coming from the TV. You are completely transfixed, so you don’t bother saying anything to him, and he has no intention of interrupting you.

Someone else decides to interrupt, though.

“Yoohoo! Eraser, are you home? I see the light under the door, so you must be!”

Aizawa rolls his eyes. God, what awful timing. The sound of that insufferable man’s voice must have caught your attention too, because for the first time since the cartoons came on, you frown and look his way.

“Don’t worry,” he reassures. “It’s just someone I know. You can keep watching. I’ll only be a minute.”

You nod absentmindedly and focus back on the TV, and soon enough, you’re completely zoned-out again.

Meanwhile, Aizawa opens the door and finds himself face to face with a carefree, overbearing idiot.

“My schedule was looking pretty free, so I came to hang out!” Present Mic grins.

“Of course you did,” Aizawa scowls. “But no, now’s not a good time.”

“Why not? Don’t tell me you’re getting ready for bed already. I know you like your sleep and all, but—”

He stops midsentence, because he can hear the TV playing in the background, and being the nosy bastard that he is, he sidesteps Aizawa and sneaks a peek inside.

Then, he lets out a loud, exaggerated gasp.

“Eraser! There’s a kid in your apartment!”

“Thanks,” Aizawa mutters sarcastically. “I hadn’t realized that until now.”

Present Mic takes a moment to assess the situation. He’s normally obnoxiously loud, to the point that Aizawa has to tell him to shut up, so the fact that he’s been rendered speechless says a lot about the situation.

Unfortunately, he can never keep his mouth shut for long enough.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Present Mic shakes his head disappointedly. “I never took you for the type to have a secret love child. But what matters is that you’ve decided to take responsibility and look after her. And don’t worry! I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

Present Mic flashes him a thumbs-up, and Aizawa has the sudden urge to punch him in the face.

“I think my show is over,” you say suddenly. “And I’m hungry again, so I kind of want another burger. Also, who’s that guy?”

Present Mic steps forward, puffs out his chest, and with great pride, promptly declares:

“I’m your uncle!”

Aizawa really should have punched him in the face while he still had the chance.

“I hope that hot chocolate isn’t going to keep you up, because you really need to get some rest,” Aizawa says.

You look up at him with a quizzical expression. “Why would it keep me up?”

“There’s lots of sugar in it, and chocolate especially tends to keep people awake. But I’m hoping you’ll be alright. I’m sure you must be feeling pretty tired.”

He finishes tucking you into bed, smothering your little body with lots of blankets. Everything feels so warm here. Not just the hot chocolate, or the cozy bed, but also... the people. You’re not quite sure how to explain it, but when you look at them, you feel at ease. You feel safe.

“If I go to sleep,” you mumble, “will both of you still be here when I wake up?”

Aizawa offers you a smile. “Of course. We’re not going anywhere. Mic and I are going to be sleeping in the living room, so if there’s anything you need at all, you know where to find us.”

You heave a sigh of relief. It’s different now. Part of you is still afraid that when you wake up, you’ll be at Dr. Garaki’s mercy again, but that can’t possibly be true. You’ve already escaped from that horrible place, and there’s no way in hell you’re ever going back.

“It’s going to be okay,” Aizawa says, perhaps sensing your apprehension. He reaches over to gently brush a hand across your cheek. “You’re safe now. I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

You nod, pulling the blankets up higher. Aizawa is a good person, so he wouldn’t lie to you. If he says everything’s going to be okay, then surely, it will be.

He smiles at you one last time before flicking the light off and leaving the room.

It’s dark now. Well, not completely dark, since the door is open, and a faint light is still coming from the living room, but regardless, you can feel yourself getting sleepier by the second. You didn’t even realize just how tired you were. So much has happened today. Your very first day knowing what it’s like to be alive.

The beginning was awful, and the middle wasn’t great either, but everything after that was pretty great.

And if you stay with Aizawa and Present Mic, you get the feeling that tomorrow will be even better.

So, for now, it’s time to sleep.

You let your eyelids fall shut. Weighed down by exhaustion, it doesn’t take long for your breathing to slow and enter a steady, quiet rhythm.

Within a few minutes, you’re out like a light.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t last.

He comes to you in your dreams. Or rather, your nightmares. You hear his laughter echoing cruelly as he slices your flesh apart, and blood gushes out of every open wound. The pain makes your eyes roll back into your skull, and you wail out, pleading for it to be over.

But it doesn’t end. In fact, death would be a more merciful fate. Instead, Dr. Garaki mutilates you on a never-ending loop, admiring the way your body repeatedly heals itself.

“My little masterpiece,” he mumbles adoringly. “You’re so precious. So perfect. And you’ll always listen to everything I say. Won’t you?”

You don’t have the strength to respond. You just pray for it all to be over.

And when your scream pierces through the dead of the night, you suddenly realize that you’re awake again.

“What happened?!”

Aizawa comes running into the room right away, and Present Mic trails behind him, hurrying to wipe the grogginess out of his eyes.

You’re unable to string a coherent sentence together. You keep gasping for breath, chest heaving under the weight of every inhale. It hurts. Even though you’re awake, even though Dr. Garaki isn’t actually here, it feels like a part of him stays with you, no matter where you go.

Kill all heroes.

The voice in the back of your head calls to you again, demanding to be heard.

“Leave me alone,” you sob, keeling forward on the bed. “Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone...!”

Aizawa and Present Mic both wrap you in their arms. They hug you close, offering the warmth of their embraces. It comforts you, and yet, the pain—and fear—doesn’t go away. Not completely.

“You’re okay,” Aizawa mumbles. He strokes your hair over and over again. “It’s okay, [Name]. We’re here for you. It’s going to be alright.”

He’s telling the truth. You know that he wouldn’t lie to you. He must truly believe that everything will be fine.

But for some reason, there’s a pit in your stomach, and all of a sudden, you feel doubtful.

Dr. Garaki’s influence extends even farther than you realize.

You haven’t quite escaped him yet.

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smilesatdawnmain · 2 days ago

Note

Would things be different if Xiaotian stayed on the mountain?

My theories on what could happen :

Theory 1) Xiaotian and his parents would go on a nice vacation and maybe explain a few things to their son. Maybe on that vacation Xiaotian would meet MK or maybe just spend some quality time with his parents

Theory 2) MK would pull out the staff and as soon as danger shows up, he sets out to find monkey king and ask him to defeat maybe Spider Queen or someone.

Now, will Wukong and Macaque be there to see MK and find out Xiaotian was telling the truth about the Mystery Person with red shoes ? Or will the parents be in the celestial realm because of the war against LBD ?

If the parents weren’t there, only Xiaotian would find MK and be happy to finally see his other half. But what would Xiaotian and MK do next ?

Would Xiaotian explain that Monkey King and Macaque aren’t there or (but I guess this is unlikely) pretend to be Monkey king because he thinks MK is only there for Monkey king and will leave if he doesn’t see him. Maybe at first it was fun to pretend to be his dad, but after some time , Xiaotian would realize that he has made a mess.

Or all this pretending stuff wouldn’t happen and the family would just happily reunite

(Ok, so maybe Theory 2 has multiple theories in it)

Theory 3) Mayor would find MK and since MK never really met him, he wouldn’t recognize the threat and maybe get Taken (haha bad joke I know) by the Mayor to LBD.

Theory 4) Xiaotian would stay depressed and mad at his parents, so when a person comes along that says he hates his parents (Erlang ) , Xiaotian would go with them just to piss off his parents. I think that when you get at a very low point and very angry and desperate, you might do some stupid things without thinking. And going with a celestial somewhere is very very stupid. However, maybe Xiaotian is too smart for that.

These are all AMAZING theories. Of course, literally, any of them could come true in an alternate version 0.0 personally, I think theories 3 and 4 are the most likely. Or at least, what I would have gone with if Xiaotian hadn't left the mountain. As Peng had even warned Wukong "Hey- at this rate, your son is going to wanna go with ANYONE other than you, and that other person might be dangerous". So if Erlang, or the Mayor or whoever showed up, offering to get him out of there, he would be desperate enough to agree and go willingly. Eventually LBD would discover MK. Even if Xiaotian hadn't discovered him, at some point, she would track down the slivers of his power. And, as you say, he gets Taken. Again 0.0 That or, if Xiaotian went with the Mayor, would use Xiaotian to track him. both are super likely

#lego monkie kid #lmk #answer #lmk mk #taken au #xiaoxiao #taken theories #taken alternates?

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storiesofaot · 1 day ago

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To be honest, what I had in mind when it came to their ages kind of... fluctuated, haha 😂 Everything below 10 would've worked for me, I honestly did not give it too much thought - sorry!!

I see what you mean with Levi probably seeing himself as worthless. Unless Kuchel was the one who might've said something about blood not defining family in the past, or about the circumstances under which someone grows up not defining the worth of a person. And Levi repeats it in the moment (not for Hange but rather for "himself"), unknowingly causing that reaction in Hange. But here I'm just trying to forcibly rearrange stuff in order for it to work, lol!

I love the idea of the two siblings having one "ticket" to the upper world, and then Kenny being the one who lets Kuchel go there. But later on he sees it as his turn to be the "first one", to profit from the tea set. Those obligations are I guess also the reason why he "takes care" of Levi (in a shitty way, lol).

Alright, sooo... we have Kenny giving away Kuchel and Levi through the tea set, then Kuchel and Levi being brought back to the Underground by the company. Kuchel dies, the company leaves Levi to die alone as well. Kenny finds him and "adopts" him, (Levi would be aware that Kenny's his uncle?) but at some point either Levi walks away, or Kenny walks away and they are separated. Levi makes it to the surface somehow, then at some point meets Hange who is keeping a low profile since, which he doesn't know at that time, she's the child of the family who once brought him into that "pit." They have unknowingly already in the past when they were children during that key moment. After exchanging "informations," lol, they go on a Sherlock Holmes & Dr. Watson quest to retrieve that tea set, setting off into unknown territory, with Levi hoping to find out why exactly his mother died and about his past. Hange joins him, even though it is very risky for her, because she sees it as her chance to break free from her family? To make things right? At some point, Levi finds out about Hange's "real" identity, and he's hurt. But then, as Hange reveals that they have met before, he remembers how that child made him feel back then, and slowly the trust is rebuilt. A big final showdown with Hange having a wonderful family reunion, and Levi coming to "closure" with his past.

.... does this make sense? Did I mix it all up? 😆 It is a mess, yes, but a beautiful mess! 😂

I don't want to repost the piece of art, so here's a link to it.

But I love that drawing SO much: it's giving antique dealer Hange x antique-stuff-loving Levi vibes, who's trying to find an old porcelain cup just like the one that belonged to his mother or something like that 😭 I know, that's not even a trope but still, now I want this so bad!!

#attack on titan #hange zoe #levi ackerman #levihan #starshower1215 ☄️#i realise i didn't pay attention to tenses sooo it might sound odd 😅#i wonder at what point we'll make tumblr break xD

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drones-of-innocence · 1 year ago

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Hi! Great job on your collab with Elitadreams! You’re both so talented!

I have a question. How do you think the following morning after the last chapter would go down?

Hey there, thank you so much!! 🥺

If I were to continue where the last chapter left off, Mario and Peach would sleep through the rest of the night and possibly a bit late into the morning because of the eventful night.

It would be a deep and restful sleep that neither of them have experienced in a very long time. Mario is ordinarily a very light sleeper due to his being very aware of his surroundings for his adventures, and Peach tends to stay up late working and then wake up early to prepare for her duties. Yet, after that night with Peach safe beside him, Mario feels so at ease to the point where his body entirely relaxes and allows him to get a full night's sleep. Peach's subconscious senses only security and comfort without even a hint of stress on her mind, and she also gets to rest fully.

Mario would be so unused to this deep sleep that he would wake up quite disoriented and be confused at first as to where he was and what he was doing. But then, seeing Peach snuggled so close, in her soft blankets with her cute little Yoshi plush tucked in with her, everything would come back to him.

The sun would already be rising high, with the sounds of the castles daily functions as well as the birds and breeze outside setting a peaceful ambience. Mario would fret at first, but give in to simply watching Peach sleep for a few precious moments. Her hair all tousled, her face soft and peaceful. During the night, she had curled up beside him and tucked into his side.

It's intimate, and Mario can't help but smile despite the butterflies in his stomach.

However, he is aware that he shouldn't stay with her in her bedroom of all places, no matter how at ease he feels being with her as she rests. He wishes he could protect her just like this every day. But the threat is still present on the castle grounds, and he must see to it that Kamek is deported and will think better of coming back. He planned on convening with the Lieutenant and reorganizing the security arrangement and introducing night shifts. Plus, he has to check in with Luigi.

So he carefully eases away, taking great care to move very slowly as to not disturb the sleeping princess. His hand had rested over hers all night. He gingerly strokes his thumb across her knuckles, and gazes at her face for a long moment before finally shifts out of the bed.

Her room is still an absolute wreck. It's kind of hilarious to sleep so sweetly among such a mess, but as long as she is safe, Mario doesn't mind. He decides to speak to some of the staff about getting her space fixed up for her as he's stepping around some of the broken furniture.

As soon as the door shuts with the softest click, Princess Peach smiles to herself and snuggles deeper into her bed.

#I feel like when they see each other later in the day #They would hesitate to mention that anything happened #And instead blush and remain polite #But later or in a more serious moment together #Peach would sincerely thank him for what happened #And Mario would be sure she knew it was no trouble at all #He would never dare mention her yoshi plush #Even if he knows that she knows that he knows about it haha #But he might dare to ask about the fire flower #And it might prompt her to invite him in her room once again to see #And they might begin spending more time together that way 🥺#Kinda got a teeny bit carried away with this hehe #Peach would be cheeky and pretend to be asleep #Both for the sake of decorum but also out of curiosity #Hehe they're in looovveee #Anon #Ask #Mario #Princess Peach #Mareach #Sing for Absolution

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bumblingbabooshka · 20 days ago

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Thinking about marriage/women's rights on Vulcan Some may think that T'Pring not being allowed to divorce Spock was because he was going through the pon farr but if she were allowed to divorce him at all she probably would have done that a long time ago, confirmed by T'Pol when she's speaking with Koss, who isn't suffering from the pon farr. She says that he can choose another mate (without invoking a fight it seems: note the difference between a 'mate' and a 'challenger') and after he makes it clear that nothing she says will change his mind about marrying her, she finally threatens to declare a kal-if-fee. It's clear that Vulcan women cannot divorce/refuse to marry a man they've been betrothed to under any circumstances if A) He himself doesn't consent to ending their marriage or B) She doesn't have someone else waiting in the wings to be given to in his stead. Though, if the challenger she selects fails to win the fight, she'll have to marry her betrothed anyway unless (again) he decides he doesn't want her after the challenge. That seems like an incredibly unfair system, heavily biased towards men. SNW is an alternate universe in many obvious respects but most egregiously in that T'Pring has a lot of non-canonical agency over her relationship with Spock. It's interesting to me that Vulcan society has women in many positions of power and treats women as equal to men from what I've seen despite these laws. We don't really see Vulcans exhibiting a misogynistic attitude towards women in general but in TOS (perhaps because of its general writing style but it's still interesting to note) both Sarek and Spock take on patriarchal attitudes specifically regarding wives. Amanda says that 'of course' Sarek commands her because "he is a Vulcan and I am his wife." It's worthwhile in my eyes to note that she specifies 'wife' instead of attributing this attitude to women as a whole. Again, with TOS' writing style it wouldn't be out of place for her to say "he is a man and I am a woman." Spock, while in a pon farr induced irritation, states that it's "undignified for a woman to play servant to a man that isn't hers" - again implying that there's something specific about being a Wife in Vulcan society which is different from being a woman in general and demands subservience to a husband. This could perhaps stem from the extreme sense of ownership that Vulcan law has permitted men to have over women. A woman legally cannot point blank refuse marriage. There is no option which guarantees she won't have to marry her betrothed other than death. When T'Pau speaks of T'Pring she refers to her as being 'property' and Stonn, before being interrupted, states he's made 'the ancient claim' - we don't know what this is because he gets cut off but it's obvious they're both using the language of Vulcan law. Men are permitted true freedom to choose. If a woman wants to choose someone else to be with there is no option available to her other than the kal-if-fee which might result in the death of the one she wants to be with. And, if her lover fails, her husband can still just decide he wants to marry her and she'll be forced to. T'Pring gives two scenarios: One where Spock 'frees' her and one where he doesn't - it's still ultimately his decision which is clear when he ends the conversation with "Stonn, she is yours." This again isn't just because of the pon farr as T'Pol also goes through this. Koss can choose another mate and when the option is talked about there's no implication that this would result in any sort of fight (both by the casualness of its mention and by the fact that there's no formal word for it unlike the kal-if-fee.) Also, the fact that Koss does eventually grant T'Pol a divorce and it's all fine means that T'Pol isn't lawfully required to have another man waiting if her HUSBAND doesn't want her. It's ONLY required if SHE doesn't want her husband. Tradition must take precedence over individual desire UNLESS!!! You're a man. Then it's fine. Like, your parents might not be happy but legally you're golden.

#as a note do NOT read the comments on any T'Pol marriage clips on youtube they're full of 'haha women amiright' jokes about #how she's leading Trip on and being a bitch for not choosing him etc - if you become interested in female characters you learn #quickly just how much people still hate women displaying any amount of complexity/doing anything that isn't just falling into a man's arms #even if that hatred doesn't take the form of outright vitriol (aka: 'I feel so sad for Trip bc T'Pol's marrying some other guy')#Trip: T'Pol listen this arranged marriage stuff is no good - you've gotta be free! You have to do what YOU want to do!#T'Pol: -legally seen as property of her husband in the eyes of the law- ...............#<- not dunking on Trip it's just funny how easy it makes it seem - but!! He doesn't know all the facts #as evidenced by him saying T'Pol might 'call off the wedding' to her mother - T'Pol can't legally call off shit #It's also interesting how gender isn't really mentioned in any of the clips I've seen - it's very clear to me that T'Pol has no options #specifically because she's a WOMAN within her culture but that's almost like a quiet undercurrent and not focused on as a main #point of dissatisfaction - which I imagine it 1000% would be for Vulcan women when men have infinitely more freedom #Vulcan Man: I don't wanna marry this lady #Vulcan Law: Ok #Vulcan Woman: I don't wanna marry this guy #Vulcan Law: Noted. So - if you and your lover are willing to risk his life there's a chance (if he wins) that you can get out of marrying #him BUT if your husband kills your lover and still wants to marry you you DOOO have to marry him sorry you just gotta #<- this also makes it incredibly dangerous to in any way warn your legal husband that a kal-if-fee might be incoming #the element of surprise is a HUGE advantage when it comes to winning a fight to the death (which your lover can train for)#Vulcans #T'Pol #T'Pring #star trek #I don't think this is bad necessarily (as a fictional worldbuilding thing) but I wish it were explored more #It's especially interesting because it's an aspect of logical Vulcan society - it's clearly not logical but it's also clearly rooted deeply #in tradition which may mean Vulcan long ago used to have a much more extreme gender bias towards the male population #it just implies a lot that Vulcan has these old laws which are unfair towards women yet they still follow BUT women are treated as equal #citizens OUTSIDE of marriage! Maybe there was a feminist movement before? Is there another brewing? Where are the Vulcan feminists!

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